Beit Rose Hotel
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Travel Blogs from Damascus
... to return to it. It’s an amazing place, the people are lovely and we were craving one more look around the souqs.
After two weeks away it seemed that nothing much had changed in Damascus. Everyone’s going about their daily business, there are just as many traders on the streets selling everything under the sun, the roads are just as chaotic and the people are just as friendly, generous and reassuring.
The only change ...
... Little did I know that this place was on the far end of town. And they waddled like penguins. And they stared, noses upward, mouths open, at anything remotely interesting, pointing and explaining to me "very old, very famous."
We slowly waddled past a seemingly endless variety of street vendors. Shwarma stands with their charcoal kissed meat taunted me, men stood around roadside carts, laughing as they pushed handfuls of fresh fava beans ...
“Hello! How are you?” beamed the ten-year-old boy who’d rushed up to us. He was with three friends, all dressed in their brand new Eid clothes. Each of them also sported a gun which they were waving about freely. But these weren’t real guns, of course, but toy ones that could shoot tiny little plastic pellets. Seemingly every small boy in Damascus had been given one for Eid because they were everywhere. After we’d replied that we were okay, ...
... old wall whose origins trace as far back as 2000 years. There are seven roads in. It's beautiful, it's like walking back in time through small streets with big character. There's many souqs, although the whole interior or the old city feels as though it's one big souq. Streets lined with spices, perfumes, antiques, coffee, scarves, soap, jewelery and everything the Middle Eastern imagination could conjure. There are cafes with nagileh and old story tellers. The old souq, al-Hamidiyya, has ...
... through a workshop area then a street market, where they were selling reasonable looking nectarines. It took a long time to identify the right vendor, and then he wouldn't let Dianne select her own fruit. We should have walked away then, but all the fruit we could see looked OK. Back at the hotel, almost all of them were damaged. Fruit vendors are *******s the world over!
Sort-of went to bed hungry, but we did have a late lunch. ...